


Eight People Adam Monroe Never Met But Should Have

by levitatethis



Category: Being Human, Heroes - Fandom, Lost, Supernatural, True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levitatethis/pseuds/levitatethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a nutshell, Adam gets around</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eight People Adam Monroe Never Met But Should Have

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday present and even though I wish it had turned out a whole lot better, I hope it's still a worthwhile read.

No shot being fired, the gun is slowly lowered.

With a confused expression ensconced in a lined brow and half parted mouth, he drags his gaze up and down the man’s body. “I’ve killed you before,” he says distractedly as if his mind is playing tricks.

“Yes,” Adam replies, angling his head to the side contemplatively. Nodding, he adds, “But as you can see I’m not dealt with quite so easily.”

“This is not possible,” Sayid states firmly. “Who are you?”

Adam offers him a knowing smile accompanied by a very subtle roll of the eyes. “Mr. Jarrah, I do believe Ben has already informed you about the ever elusive Mr. Monroe.”

He moves towards Sayid with the smoothness of a glide, tickled at the uncertainty flickering behind Sayid’s shifting gaze and the defensive stoicism conjured forth in his tensed shoulders, fisted hands (the one still holding the gun is bound to be imprinting itself in his skin) and fixed stance.

“I’ve heard much about you from our mutual friend,” Adam says.

“He is not my friend,” Sayid snaps, turning to face him directly, emphasizing the declaration.

“Nor mine considering he hired you to kill me,” Adam scoffs. “Think of it is a polite figure of speech.”

Sayid regards him a minute then asks, “Why are you here? What is it you want from me?”

Adam rests his left hand on Sayid’s right shoulder (noting his irritated glance at the touch) and leans in, quietly yet authoritatively saying, “Your strength of course—physical and intellectual. Your ability to follow orders precisely.”

“I don’t work for you.” Sayid juts his face towards Adam’s, his anger seething off of every word, and he shrugs free of the grip.

“But you could.” Adam remains unfazed and casually sticks his hands in his jacket’s pockets, slightly rolling back on his heels. “It would certainly beat doing _his_ dirty work.”

For a few seconds they stare at each other and Adam imagines the flurry of haphazard thoughts surely playing havoc in Sayid’s mind. Such is the lot of a man pushed to the brink with everything he has loved taken away.

Decidedly playing on the vague inference of hope, Adam says, “There are things I could offer you.”

Sayid narrows his eyes. “You are asking me to choose between two devils.”

Adam smiles. “Better the one you know.”

************ ********** ********** ********** ************  
Adam takes another sip of tea and smiles politely at the three people seated across from him, squeezed side-by-side on the sofa.

“So, an immortal?” Annie says with a smile then scrunches up her face and looks to her companions. “I never really thought that was possible.”

“Says the ghost to the vampire and the werewolf,” George counters incredulously.

Adam notices that Mitchell keeps his inquisitive gaze forward while Annie rolls her eyes in a friendly manner at George. Adam keeps his attention on the vampire.   
“One of my attributes,” Adam says.

“Or a curse,” Mitchell replies quickly.

“Come now,” Adam chastises lightly, lowering his teacup to the saucer in his left hand. “Let’s not think so little of such a wondrous thing we share.”

“It’s not exactly the same thing,” Mitchell counters.

“Of course not,” Annie replies to Adam’s statement and softly squeezes Mitchell’s forearm while giving him an admonishing look. It prompts Mitchell to rein in his aggression and sit back, lowering his shoulders in a (possibly superficial) show of appeasement, while keeping his eyes fixed on their visitor.

George casts a quick look at his housemates then leans forward, his brow furrowed, and asks, “So how exactly did you end up here?” his mouth agape.

Adam takes his time slowly sipping his tea. “I’m a bit of a traveler,” he eventually says. “And Mitchell’s previous life—,”

Adam pauses and playfully adds, “_Lives_, precede him. It seemed only right to stop by and introduce myself.”

Letting that sink in, Mitchell finally says, “The people you may know from my past are not necessarily ones I care to keep in touch with.”

Adam pauses thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t assume otherwise.” He hunches forward off his chair to put his teacup and saucer down on the table.

“Then how exactly can I help you?” Mitchell’s question halts Adam’s movement to sit back down.

He raises his eyes to Mitchell’s and stands up. “I hoped it wouldn’t be an imposition for me to stay the night.”

“Don’t think so,” George says at the same time that Mitchell says, “I don’t think that’s the best idea,” and Annie exclaims, “Yes!”

Adam barely contains his smile as Mitchell and George shoot surprised and questioning looks at her.

Confused at first then defiantly committed, Annie declares, “Don’t be so rude. He can be my guest.” She stands up and situates herself between the two factions. With a smile at Adam, she adds, “Besides, he has a trustworthy face.”

George and Mitchell rise quickly to their feet with George muttering, “So do serial killers who bury bodies in the yard.”

“George!” Annie snaps and he emphatically puts his hands on his hips and raises a challenging eyebrow at her.

Everyone looks at Mitchell who is staring at Adam.

“One night,” Mitchell says, Annie smiles bright and George looks on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

“That’s all I need,” Adam replies, his blue eyes sparkling.

************ ********** ********** ********** ************  
Adam looks down at the intricate pattern on the floor beneath his feet then flicks his gaze upward. “I don’t quite regret informing you gentlemen that this won’t hold me.” Met with confused and untrusting expressions, he adds, “I’m not a demon,” while raising his arms to the side in a magician’s show of ‘ta-dah!’

Dean casts anxious eyes at Sam who looks back to the book in his hand and continues chanting in Latin.

&gt;Adam raises his right hand and gestures with his palm forward for Sam to stop. “Can we please give the Latin a rest? I appreciate the effort behind your enunciation but sometimes it’s best to stop while you’re ahead.”

He walks forward, beyond the trap, causing Dean and Sam to instinctively take a defensive step back before squaring their shoulders and planting their feet.

“What are you?” Sam’s tone falls somewhere between antagonism and fascination.

Adam raises an eyebrow. “I expect more from book smart brother.” Posing contemplatively he continues, “What is it they say about the negation of mortality?”

Sam furrows his brow as Adam hears Dean say with a derisive laugh, “Immortal.”

Turning his attention, Adam points at him. “Give that man a prize. Yes, I am immortal.”

He tilts his head to the side. “And you’re hunters, are you not?” He walks around Dean’s left side causing the Winchesters to turn on the spot to follow his movement. Looking over his shoulder first, then turning heel, Adam says, “You think you can stop me?”

Dean’s face remains resolved. “Oh there’s a whole lot of things we could do but I’m thinking about going Red Queen on your ass.”

Adam’s smile falters and he steps into Dean’s space, feeling him tense and take a sharp intake of breath while Sam (just over his shoulder) takes a quick step forward, ready to act if necessary.

“Are you willing to risk that another head won’t pop up in its place?” Adam tones sternly, the challenge clear.

Dean wrinkles his brow in distaste at the disturbing visual. “The girls must love you.”

“A gentleman never brags,” Adam informs him.

“So what’s stopping you?” Dean retorts.

Adam purses his lips. “No need to be so rude old chap,” he says and squeezes Dean’s shoulder. “I’d be more than happy to share some tricks of the trade with you.”

“As fascinating as this conversation is,” Sam interrupts, looking like he is struggling to decipher a complicated puzzle, “I would think there’s another reason we’re all here.”

“Right you are,” Adam is more emphatic as he drops his grip and moves to a spot between the brothers. After a fleeting glance to the trap he says, “That’s not going to do much good.”

“Really?” Dean questions drolly.

“Really.” Adam puts a lid on the aggravation growing within.

Dean closes in. “And why would we believe anything you say?”

“Because the Apocalypse is here. Because I have centuries of experience; all you have is your father’s book,” Adam states.

Dean and Sam exchange a surprised look and Sam asks, “And why would you help us?”

“Uh-uh.” Adam waves a finger at him. “That information is going to cost you a pretty penny.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Dean scoffs. “We don’t need you Rip Wan Winkle.”

“Correction, Dean,” Adam condescends. “You don’t know what you need.”

************ ********** ********** ********** ********** **  
Adam exhales a swoosh of breath and reclines lazily on the sofa, his limbs splayed, as euphoria washes over him. “Now _that_ is spectacular.”

He lolls his head to the side without lifting it from the cushion and stares at the eclectically decorated living room.

“I told you, only the best for my priority customers.” Lafayette strolls across the floor from the kitchen towards him. With a jut of his hips, he says, “Sharp angles and smooth curves do a body good.”

Adam tries to roll over onto his side and on the third try, succeeds. “No matter how many times I do this, it’s brilliant.”

“Oh no baby, don’t be breaking my heart by telling me you’ve been getting V from any unsavory characters.” Lafayette waves his hand in Adam’s face and takes a seat in the armchair next to the sofa.

“Just a few hits here and there, but yours is unparalleled.” Adam gazes dazedly.

“Well.” Lafayette puts on a serious face. “I guess I can let that go this time, but don’t make a habit out of it.”

“Baby needs a new car.” Adam muffles his impaired laughter with his face pressed to the cushion after he puts on an exaggerated American accent.

“Something like that,” Lafayette replies when Adam looks up again and meets his gaze. He takes a pensive breath and leans forward. “You’ve been M.I.A you AWOL bastard. Where you been getting into trouble?”

“Around,” Adam draws out the answer and braces himself up on his arms. “Business takes me here and there.”

“An entrepreneur!” Lafayette gives him a half smile. “You got any sweet tips for me?”

Adam holds his gaze then twists and turns until he is sitting upright on the sofa, his arms resting limply at his side. “You’re already doing an impeccable job.”

“I always said I was more than a gorgeous face.” Lafayette lets loose a relaxed laugh.

“That you are.” Adam grins and stretches his arms above his head, arching his body off the sofa then settling back.

Lafayette eyes him appreciatively. “So is this business or pleasure?”

Adam says nothing but does not look away. Slowly Lafayette stands up and approaches him, leaning forward into his space; Adam tilts his head back, only a few millimeters separates them.

“How about you gimme a kiss?” Lafayette says softly.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Adam pushes up and gently presses their lips together.

************ ********** ********** ********* ********** **  
“I seem to have traded in one version of psychopathy for another,” Mohinder states as firmly as possible save for the slight waver in his voice. He glances behind him at the university’s lab door, shut closed.

“What can I say, you bring it out of us,” Adam replies. When Mohinder looks back his way Adam glances past him to the same door. “We won’t be interrupted for awhile. Relax. Enjoy yourself.”

He begins a controlled yet casual stroll about the lab, dragging his eyes across all the equipment. “I never had the pleasure of meeting the other one.”

Mohinder furrows his brow in confusion.

“The other _psychopath_—your word, not mine, far too dramatic and misguided a diagnosis—that ruled your stars.” Adam comes to a stop a foot away.

Mohinder hesitates as if considering the best response. “I don’t know where Hiro is. You’re wasting your time,” he says decidedly, folding his arms across his chest.

“You’re putting the cart before the horse, carp,” Adam replies dismissively and waves his hand. “We’ll get there.”

Mohinder huffs his frustration, letting his gaze slip to the opened laptop on the table to his left. Returning Adam’s watchful stare he says, “I don’t do small talk, especially when ulterior motives are involved.”

“I can appreciate that.” Adam shrugs his shoulders, nods and presses his lips into a line in a presentation of understanding. “Your past experience with _friends_ is not exactly unblemished.”

“I was too trusting,” Mohinder says coolly. “But I’ve learned my lesson.”

“But have you learned it well enough?” Adam walks towards him. “You _still_ want to believe there’s good in people.”

Mohinder rolls his eyes at the saccharine sentiment and Adam continues, “I like that about you.”

“Well as long as you’re impressed.”

“Don’t be glib, I’m paying you a compliment.” Adam leans into him and lowers his voice. “And I don’t waste my breath.”

“But you do waste my time,” Mohinder matches the low tone. “I don’t care if you like me—in fact that kind of compliment raises far too many red flags for me to count. I do care that you show up and think nothing of turning my life upside down.”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

“Yet.”

“I see you have your judgments all in order.” Adam shifts back a step and regards him thoughtfully.

“Well, with enemies like you…” Mohinder twists the saying and lets it trail off.

Adam smirks. “You don’t know the half of what I can do. Talk is always big when you don’t understand the extent of the fear you should feel.”

Mohinder clenches his jaw. “So much for a friendly visit.”

“It doesn’t have to be so difficult.” Adam takes another step back, noting that the creation of space gives the illusion of just enough submissiveness to calm the tension in Mohinder’s stance.

“And why is that?” Mohinder demands, dropping his shoulders and unfolding his arms.

“Because I know you and this predicament your life has spun into rather rapidly better than you realize.”

Disbelief registers in Mohinder’s wide eyes. “You know me?”

Adam coyly replies, “I know a lot of things, Dr. Suresh.”

Uncertainty flickers across Mohinder’s face before he narrows his eyes and angles his head back, peering down at him. “Prove it.”

A challenge.

Adam smiles. “Gladly.”  
 


End file.
